


take off the mask of flesh and bone

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Isn't it always for them?, Light Bondage, Porn with Feelings, involving a tie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Bedelia has a fantasy, Hannibal helps her fulfil it.





	take off the mask of flesh and bone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmo/gifts).



“ _M_ _eravigliosa_.”

Hannibal murmurs against Bedelia’s skin, his head resting against her breasts, his favourite spot. The church bells outside announce midday as they linger in bed, skin against skin, limbs entwined.

"This was a much better idea than attending the early lunch at the Pallazzo,” he concludes, nuzzling closer.

“There is no arguying with that,” Bedelia agrees; she was not looking forward to a tiring hour in a company of tedious professors and this way they both got to enjoy their morning. Twice.

Hannibal looks up at her as if contemplating a serious notion.

“Do you have any ideas you would like to share?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

Bedelia gives him a challenging look. 

“Any fantasies, Doctor,” he lifts himself up,” I can make them a reality,” his eyes sweet and intense, peering into hers. Bedelia holds his gaze, saying nothing.

“You know all of mine fantasies,” he adds while another grin pulls at his lips.

Bedelia knows that his fantasy is for _her_ to be included in all his fantasies. Not a difficult guess, but one that has proven itself to be very pleasurable. A tiny voice echoes in a back of her mind, but she silences it at once. 

“I do not have any unfulfilled ones,” she replies simply. He continues to look at her, not convinced by her words, but does not comment. His head returns to lie against her chest, fingers playfully brushing her stomach. The conversation seems forgotten. For now at least.

 

That night, Bedelia lies awake, gazing at Hannibal resting next to her. In the quiet hours of the night, the little voice in her mind becomes audible again. A desire to learn about herself, residing in her deepest thoughts, comes to life. But she does not let herself explore it. It is easier to render others vulnerable than to allow herself that; she chooses to focus on studying other people instead. Especially now, being granted a chance to know a man like Hannibal. Yet the voice is persistent, an itch more determined to be scratched with each passing day.

_Especially now._

Hannibal’s chest rises and falls slowly as he sleeps peacefully. How peculiar, she has never shared a bed ( _life_ ) with anyone before and neither has he. Yet, here they are. Bedelia ponders the trust that was required for them to arrive at this moment. Finally, her tired mind drifts off to sleep.

  

“There is one thing I have considered.”

The following evening Bedelia lies on Hannibal’s back, her fingers stroking the hair on the nape of his neck. She can sense him shift excitedly at the sound of her words, wanting to see her properly, but her body prevents him from moving. It is for the best; the scrutiny of his gaze might have stopped her before she even uttered a word.

“I was wondering-“ she begins, still addressing the back of his head,” what would it feel like to relinquish control.”

She does not say anything more, the implications are obvious to both. Her statement is met with silence and Bedelia wonders what goes through Hannibal’s mind; has he anticipated something of a kinkier nature or does her consider how to use the new knowledge against her?

She rolls off his back and rests on the bed. Hannibal turns to face her. He extends his hand, running his fingers through her hair as his palm cups her cheek. Bedelia leans into his soft touch, relishing his warmth and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she meets his eyes looking at her tenderly.

“Whatever you want me to do,” he simply says.

 

They do not approach the subject until two days later, when they have forgone dessert, trading the sweet taste of Maraschino for an even sweeter taste of each other’s lips.

In a frenzy of tongues and hands, they lead each other to the bedroom. Hannibal slowly unzips her dress, fingers tracing every new bit of exposed skin, and it lands on floor with a soft swoosh, an azure pool at her feet.

Bedelia’s hands reach to remove his shirt, but stop at the knot around his neck. He rarely wears ties now, prefering bow-ties, but the purple one remains in his favours. Her deft fingers undo the twist with practised ease. She pulls at one end and the silk material slides slowly from his neck before landing on her hand. Bedelia looks at the fabric, fingers tracing the paisley pattern, lost in thought. Then, suddenly, she looks at him and places the tie in his hand. He meets her gaze in perfect understanding.

They finish undressing with care, as though unwrapping treasured gifts they will never tire of. Stepping through the puddle of clothes, they sit on the edge of the bed and Hannibal kisses her deeply. He then stops and looks at her silently, giving her a moment to change her mind, but she merely holds his gaze, saying nothing.

Hannibal slowly pushes her to lie on her back over the mattress while he hovers on top of her. He takes the tie between his fingers and lets the material trace the valley between her breasts and slide over her nipples. She shivers at the caress of the soft fabric against her sensitive skin. Hannibal’s hands gently brush her arms as he moves them to rest above her head. He holds them in place, looking at her once more. Bedelia nods. He brings her wrists together and binds them with the tie, securing it to the bedstead. The knot is not too tight, but firm. A sign of an expert’s hand.

“You must have done this a lot,” she speaks, suddenly self-conscious.

“No,” he replies, his voice a hot whisper in her ear, “Never like this.” He presses another lingering kiss on her lips before she gets a chance to retort. His lips then move to her jaw and travel down, leaving another deep kiss in the dip of her neck. Her back arches slightly as his tongue roams across the soft skin of her breasts.

He explores her body slowly and finally reaches her belly, nuzzling her navel before lowering his face between her legs. A soft gasp escapes her lips as he kisses her hot centre once, twice. Her hips buckle and her legs part wider as he covers her entrance with his mouth. He begins to suck, tongue tracing her swollen clit.

Bedelia strains against her silk bonds, her fingers itching to dig into his skull, to _guide_ him, but she can’t. He watches her struggle from between her legs and his only response is to suck harder, making her concentrate on nothing but the pleasure of the moment. She closes her eyes, another gasp slipping through her parted lips, as the world around her disappears. She is only aware of his skilled mouth on her, consuming her with passion. Her body arches and she cries out his name, as she comes hard, wrists pressing against the fabric.

As her trembling abides, she sees him moving closer to release her hands, kissing his way up her arms. He places gentle kisses on her palms as his hands massage her wrists, wanting to prevent any possible strain.

High on endorphins, Bedelia feels elated and suddenly daring in her pursuit of revelation.

“More,” she whimpers, twisting herself onto her stomach.

Hannibal does not need to be told twice. He hovers over her once more as his lips press kisses down her spine and his hands trace her curves until they reach her hips. He pulls them up in one swift movement and positions himself between her thighs as she rests on her forearms.

Her unease returns anew, piercing through the cloud of euphoria. She is aware of his body towering over her, more significantly than usual, and feels nervous about being unable to see his face and judge his reactions.

He does not enter her right away, his member merely teasing her swollen labia as his hand caresses the base of her spine. She feels the heat of him and knows he is restraining himself, but he continues to tantalize her until she is infuriately wet, her concerns drowned in her need for release.

Bedelia presses her hips back in desperation and he finally enters her in one smooth thrust with a low growl escaping his lips. It is muffled by her own loud moan. He begins to move, unhurried, deep and long strokes. Sparks alight down her every limb, as she surrenders to the pleasure of having him inside of her.

“ _More_ ,” she gasps and he complies.

His grip on her hips tightens, fingers digging into her flesh, as he pulls her against him, plunging even deeper. She moans loudly and all the flickers inside her ignite. He quickens the pace, thrusting into her with abandon and she loses herself in the sensual joy, eyes closed, her hips rocking back, meeting his very thrust.

The fire within her begins to crescendo and his hand moves from her hip to her slick clit. His fingers press down firmly and her moans escalate. A few more strokes and Bedelia comes again, harder than before. The blaze consumes her as the pleasure sweeps through her body in continuous spasms, over and over again.

Through the mist of her lingering orgasm, she is vaguely aware when he reaches his own climax and their shared movement stops. Hannibal reaches over, his arm surrounding her chest, holding her close and kissing her cheek.

He shifts back onto the mattress and pulls her with him to rest on his chest. Enveloped by the slick heat of their bodies, Bedelia’s eyes remain closed; the only thing she is aware of is her own ragged breath and Hannibal’s heartbeat. As her breathing slows down, the haze covering her mind disperses. Her thoughts are clear once more and, somehow, she is still _herself._ She lifts her head to look at Hannibal, nervous of what she might see, but he gazes at her with his usual adoration. A sudden wave of emotions washes over her as he kisses her temple and pulls her even closer. Her body and mind are both sated and she closes her eyes again, sighing contentedly.

Her concealed desire has turned it into the most perfect reality.

**Author's Note:**

> This story would have never happened if it hadn't been for the prompt from kmo ♥. I had this idea lingering in the back of my mind, but was reluctant to bring it to life, so thank you for the push I needed. It is a fine line I was attempting to walk here; having Bedelia loose control without making her submissive (because she definitely is not). I was feel nervous when I write smut, so feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
